


Beguiled

by GretchenSinister



Series: My Top 10 Blacksand Kinkmeme Fics [11]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alignment Swap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "All the others are the same, except the Sandman is an evil being who uses his magical golden sand to give children the kind of dream’s they never wake up from.Pitch is the boogeyman, who gives children frightening dreams to scare them into waking up from the golden dreams the Sandman provides, or to scare them from sleeping to much, and becoming a target.People believe in both of them, as the children who sleep until they die is a known phenomenon, and the idea of there being a dark king who saves the children is a well known fairy tale, ala Santa Claus/Tooth/Bunnymund.300 years later, and Sandy is trying to take over the world, but he might be solved if the guardians can convince Jack Frost to join them.Or, IDK, anything with evil!Sandman and good!Pitch is fine with me! <3"Pitch is the only one who can safely dream the Sandman’s dreams–or so he thinks. (gen has question marks because really, can I write Pitch interacting with Sandy and make it gen? Well, yes, but do I want to? But this isn’t romantic.)Oh by the way pages 1-7 of the first round of the kinkmeme are completely filled by now.
Relationships: Pitch Black/Sanderson Mansnoozie
Series: My Top 10 Blacksand Kinkmeme Fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654639
Kudos: 16
Collections: Blacksand Short Fics





	Beguiled

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 7/22/2013.

Pitch held the globe of black sand before him, his heart beating faster as he thought about what was contained within it. Dreamsand. Pure dreamsand. After all this time he had figured out not only how to convert it, but how to capture it.  
  
From a practical standpoint, he knew that this was not really useful, and he should not have spent so much time figuring out how to do so. His nightmares could convert dreamsand to nightmare sand. It was a quick, reliable, and almost thoughtless process. With that possibility available, why try to capture dreamsand? There was no use for it, and it put everyone near it at risk of falling into a sweet, but permanent, slumber.  
  
Everyone except for Pitch, that is. Of all beings, his powers prevented the Sandman’s from taking a fatal toll on him, and that, that was what had caused him to start considering the possibility of collecting dreamsand.  
  
Perhaps he should have tried to ignore it when he started noticing it. No, not perhaps. He definitely should have tried to ignore how beautiful the Sandman’s dreams were. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had started to watch those dreams a little, and then a little more, before making them safe with nightmare sand. And it became oh so clear why the dreamers would not want to wake.   
  
If he had ignored the dreams, he wouldn’t have started to think about how he, the Nightmare King, could not be beguiled by the Sandman’s dreams. The dreamsand could not hold him in sleep. He would always be able to wake himself up. He would be safe, if he dreamed.  
  
If he had ignored the dreams, he wouldn’t be standing here, in his lair, holding a shell of nightmare sand filled with dreamsand, trembling in anticipation. Only the Nightmare King could dream in safety, and that was all the Nightmare King wanted to do now. He stepped over to his bed and lay down, now holding the globe above him. Against logic, against instinct, against pride, but all for the sake of desire, he used his thumbs to shatter the nightmare sand shell and allow the Sandman’s golden grains to flow over his eyes, and face, and body.  
  
_The Nightmare King dreamed. He dreamed of riding his Night Mares over infinite soft, grassy hills under a bright moon, the night air cool and perfect on his skin. He dreamed of sailing through a sea of stars and seeing the constellations dance. He dreamed of a world that did not need him, where his powers were his alone, the talents of a free young god learning to play. And he dreamed he was loved, not with cool admiration or the logical esteem from one equal to another, but with a love like an all-consuming fire, like a tidal wave, like a hurricane, like a landslide, a love that cared nothing for logic or rules. And this dream glimmered even more golden than the others._  
  
And when he forced himself to wake he realized he could indeed be beguiled by the Sandman’s dreams, and would in fact do everything in his power to bring this about.  
  
He met the Sandman on a rooftop a few nights later, a sly smile on his wide face and a shimmering ball of dreamsand in his hands. _I know what you did, Nightmare King_ , he signed. _I can see it in the gold of your eyes._  
  
“I have come here,” he said, “to offer myself as a sacrifice. Focus your dreams on me. Let them play in my mind. I will host them. I will be your sleeper, so that the others do not have to die.”  
  
The Sandman’s smile grew wider. _You are greedy and a liar, Pitch Black. But I accept your offer._  
  
The Sandman floated forward, bringing his dreamsand with him, and as Pitch was offered everything he could not help but want, he began to grow afraid. But he could no more resist the Sandman than the moon could resist the tides, and without a word he let his eyelids go heavy, let himself fall into warm arms, and let himself be carried to Dreamland, where he would not die, but where he might not ever wake, because he could no longer want to.


End file.
